


Featurettes

by Stariceling



Category: Dude That's My Ghost!
Genre: Ficlet Collection, Friendship, Gen, Ship Tease, bromighost, ectofeature
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-07-06
Packaged: 2017-12-17 11:47:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/867181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stariceling/pseuds/Stariceling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of snapshots of Billy and Spencer's bromance.</p><p>Smells Like Teen Spirit: Spencer doesn’t mind sharing a bathroom, even when Billy gets pushy about some weird things.<br/>We Don’t Have To Take Our Clothes Off: Billy has a good reason to be stealing Spencer’s clothes. Spencer tries to comfort him.<br/>Thriller: When Billy is too scared to sleep, Spencer helps him relax.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Smells Like Teen Spirit

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted a place to collect short fics based on various Spencer and Billy headcanons. For the most part I think you can read these as either friendship or pre-slash depending on how you like to see them.
> 
> This first one is based on my glee over the fact that's it's canon that Spencer smells like Billy (according to his groupies).

If he didn’t already know about Billy, Spencer would have been complaining that the house had to be haunted. How else could he explain things that kept appearing and disappearing all the time?

“Where does all this stuff come from? And how can you possibly use all of it? I can’t even find my own soap!” Spencer complained as he searched the bathroom cupboards.

Their bathroom was overstocked with so many random bottles of body wash, cologne, and hair care products, he couldn’t even find the basics. He really didn’t mind sharing with Billy, but at the same time he was pretty sure his friend didn’t need any products to make his hair stand out like that.

Billy popped his head out of the cupboard under the sink, knocking a small avalanche of bottles across the floor. “I can help you pick one! Oh, how about this? ‘On Tour’ from rock star scents: smoke machine and sandalwood with just a hint of roadie.”

“What is ‘roadie’ supposed to smell like?”

“It’s just a little something to make you seem more approachable. It says, ‘I may be the rockin’est dream you’ve ever seen, but I still need love.’”

“Why would I need-”

“Oh! Oh!” Billy interrupted, flying up into the air as he dropped the first bottle and seized another one. “Forget that, you should use this! Poolside! With exotic tropical chlorine!”

“Billy, I don’t want-”

“Or!” Billy shoved a new bottle right in Spencer’s face. “My own personal brand! You should definitely use this one. I can even wash your back for you, too.”

“No! And how much of this stuff do you have?” The label was familiar, though since it featured the grinning face of Billy Joe Cobra it matched a lot of other things around the house. “There’s always like five bottles of this stuff in the shower and it smells like peanut butter.”

“But not just any peanut butter. Smooth!”

“Peanut butter all smells the same.”

“Oh course it doesn’t,” Billy laughed, slinging an arm around Spencer’s shoulders. “One whiff of this and everyone knows you are _smooth_.”

“Okay,” Spencer tried a different tack. “Say I don’t want to smell like peanut better. I’ve seen what you do to peanut butter.” Billy was the only person he knew who could make eating a spoonful of peanut butter look obscene. Complete with the shameless eyebrow wiggling when he noticed Spencer was watching.

“Hey, respect the peanut butter!”

Spencer refrained from commenting that he wasn’t the one who’d turned food into soap. “You don’t have to share your stuff. I just want one bar of soap that smells like soap. I had a new bar yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah. I threw that out.”

“What? Why?! That was mine!”

“You don’t want to smell like soap. You want to smell like stardom!” Billy leaned into his one-armed hug, offering up the bottle of self-scented body wash once again.

“Like peanut butter,” Spencer corrected.

“Well, it _is_ something only a select few can pull off, but who better than my little brotein shake?”

Even before he’d punctuated the words by affectionately mussing up Spencer’s hair, it was clear Billy was just trying to share something he liked in his own pushy way. If it really meant that much to him, Spencer realized he didn’t mind going along with it.

“Okay, okay. Hand it over and get your intangible butt out of here so I can take a shower already!”

“You sure you don’t want me to wash your back?”

“Yeah, that is not happening.”

Spencer had to shoo Billy out, and then push his head back through the shower wall when he tried to phase through with more ‘helpful’ suggestions. He really didn’t mind sharing just about everything with Billy, but there were still some boundaries.

He was pretty sure Billy was going to be all over him the minute he got out of the bathroom, anyway. The perils of smelling like a rock star.


	2. We Don’t Have To Take Our Clothes Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned I really love it when they wear each other's clothes? I really, really do and I couldn't tell you why. It's just so freaking cute! I feel like this one pushes it more in the ship direction than the last one did.
> 
> Also, I would so wear Billy's underwear if they had those slogans on them.

Usually if Spencer noticed Billy’s clothes it was because they had morphed into some kind of weird costume. He was so versatile, Spencer was mostly used to the costume changes. Except right now he was wearing something definitely not made of partly-transparent ectoplasm.

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

“Nope. It’s mine now.”

“Billy, why are you wearing my shirt?” And his boxers, he realized as he leaned on the arm of Billy’s chair. And his socks.

“I told you, they’re mine now. I’m claiming them.”

“Okay, why?” Spencer had thought Billy was just sulking because he was flopped down in his armchair, legs noodling out across the floor, and he was actually being quiet for once. Maybe there was something more going on, because this was weird. Spencer couldn’t imagine why Billy, super-eccentric superstar, would want to steal his plain t-shirt.

“Because if they’re _my_ clothes you’ll see me when you’re wearing them.”

Now Spencer had an idea what this was all about. Principal Ponzi had just tried to ban male students from wearing jewelry, specifically the pendant Spencer always wore. Of course that rule had backfired spectacularly. Everything had turned out fine, so he hadn’t thought it would affect Billy so badly.

“I don’t think you can claim them when you’re already a ghost.” Spencer sat cross-legged on the floor, close enough to lean his arm on Billy’s knee.

Billy just hunched down further in the chair, giving Spencer a puppy-eyed pout.

“I’m not going to lose your gear, so don’t worry about it.”

Billy slid out of the chair and practically into Spencer’s lap, wrapping him in a boneless full-body hug. He pressed his face against Spencer’s chest and wailed, “But what if it goes out of style?”

“I won’t care.”

“What if someone steals it?”

“We won’t let them, right?”

“What if you go bungee jumping and if falls off and a crocodile swallows it?”

“Would it make you feel better if I wore something else as a backup?”

That was apparently what Billy wanted to hear, because he popped back up and unwrapped his arms from Spencer so he could reach across the room. “I have just the thing!”

The cloth hit Spencer in the face before he knew it was coming. Of course it was emblazoned with Billy’s face, but there was one big problem with this suggestion.

“I am not wearing your underwear!”

“Please?” Billy’s hands moved over his hips, measuring them. “I bet they would fit perfectly. They would look good on you!”

“No way! Seriously, how can you want your face there?”

“Are you kidding? It’s perfect. ‘Property of Billy Joe Cobra. Approach with respect and awe.’”

“Okay, _that_ is _not_ property of BJC.”

“What about: ‘Mess with this, you get the fangs.’”

“No, and I have officially stopped feeling sorry for you.”

“What about a matching set?”

Spencer didn’t mean to consider it. It was just that Billy was still wearing his underwear, and he had never realized that could be so interesting. The faint glow of ectoplasm through thin fabric outlined Billy much better than he ever would have imagined.

“Like Bronnie and Clyde?” Billy prompted, probably sensing Spencer was inching closer to giving in.

“People will think I’m being haunted by floating underpants if you do that.” Or more likely just assume it was another of his special effects. “So, still no.”

“I-I guess, if you don’t want to see me anymore. . .” A sudden waterfall of ectoplasmic tears soaked into Spencer’s shirt as Billy wailed.

Spencer knew when it was all diva drama and Billy trying to get his own way now. He had too much experience not to. At the same time, he was also getting a little better at figuring out what was under the drama and how to get at it.

“Dream on. You’re stuck with me, because I’m never taking your pendant off.”

“Really?” That stopped the tears, at least.

“I promise.” As if he would ever want to stop seeing his best friend. “Now we just have to find a backup that doesn’t involve your underwear.”

Spencer was just going to pretend he didn’t notice Billy’s mouth bowing into an emphatic pout when he suggested socks instead. He had already done all he could to keep Billy from sulking.


	3. Thriller

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Billy is too scared to sleep, Spencer helps him relax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a bunch of cute fics around where Billy sings to Spencer to help him sleep, so I really wanted to do a role-reversal.

At some point during the evening Billy had migrated out of his chair and into Spencer’s. He kept hiding his face in Spencer’s shoulder to avoid the movie, but then it would go quiet. The background music would taper off and the suspense grated at him until he just _had_ to look, and of course whatever happened when he looked had to be the very worst part of the movie, at least until the next time.

It was all Spencer’s idea to watch that movie in the first place. _Evil Clone Dolls from Uncanny Valley_ , or something like that. Spencer had been talking about ‘uncanny valley,’ anyway. Whatever it was called, it was the scariest thing Spencer had shown him since that music video with the zombies. Because it started with people being sent these dolls that looked exactly like them, and then the dolls would come to life at night and do horrible things and they had sharp pointy teeth and why was that even necessary?

What got to Billy was remembering that not everything in the house bearing his face had been commissioned by him. Things had been sent by fans or even left outside the front gate anonymously. Could such an irony really exist? Could pointy horror-movie teeth really be hiding under his own beautiful face somewhere in this house?

Spencer was no help at all when he confided this fear. “You know, most people would think having a wax replica of yourself was pretty creepy.”

“You take that back! Wax Billy is a work of art!”

“Yeah, sure. Hey, we should totally watch _Horrors from the House of Wax_ sometime!”

“I don’t want to,” Billy pouted. He probably would watch it if Spencer did, but why couldn’t Spencer like movies that weren’t so scary? Some of his cheesy monster movies were so fun, but then Spencer would bring out something like this.

“Okay, Billy, can you let go now?”

“No.” Billy only hung on even tighter, snaking one leg around Spencer’s feet to trip him up.

Spencer sighed, trying to unwind his arms, then tickled along his side, making him laugh and relax his grip just enough for Spencer to wiggle free.

“Spencer!” Billy wailed, abandoned!

“Look, I’m putting the movie away,” Spencer told him. He put the movie back in its case, then put the whole thing in a heavy, black box on the bottom shelf. “That’s better, right?”

Usually that helped, but right now it wasn’t enough to reassure Billy that no monsters could get him. He stuck close to Spencer, lurking when Spencer pushed him out of the bathroom in a fit of fussy teen shyness. He checked everything that had his face along the way with no luck.

“How can I suspect such a beautiful face?” he lamented. “Spencer, help me!”

Spencer just laughed. “You’re on your own with that one. I’m going to bed.”

Billy wavered, thinking of having to check the rest of the house all by himself. No way! He darted after Spencer, clinging close to his back. “But if I go, who would protect you?” Yes, that was it. He couldn’t leave Spencer’s side! No telling what might happen while Spencer was sleeping and defenseless! He was lucky Billy was brave enough to sit up and guard him.

The fact that Billy was too scared to close his eyes right now didn’t _really_ enter into it.

But then Spencer crawled into bed and turned out his bedside light, and that was not okay. How could he watch for scary things in the dark? Billy flicked the light back on.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to stay up and protect you,” Billy announced, settling at the end of Spencer’s bed. “So you go to sleep.”

“Fine.” Spencer turned the light off again.

Billy switched it on again the second Spencer’s hand moved.

“Cut it out, Billy!”

“I obviously can’t watch for monsters in the dark.”

Spencer groaned, throwing one arm over his eyes. Where did he learn to be such a drama queen? “If you’re scared to go to sleep-”

“I’m not! How can you be so unappreciative?”

“Yes you are.”

“No, I’m just protecting you because I know you’d be too scared to go to sleep if I wasn’t.” So there! Billy puffed out his chest with pride, having thought of that. Spencer was just putting up a brave front so he wouldn’t look uncool in front of the great Billy Joe Corba. Deep down he must want the light on at least as much as Billy did.

“Okay, come here.” Spencer patted the bed beside him. “You can sleep with me if you bring your own blanket, ‘cause you always float away with mine.”

Billy hesitated before grabbing a blanket with his ever-so-innocent grinning face and wrapping himself up in it. He curled up on the bed beside Spencer. “But I can’t sleep.” Spencer would know he was only saying that because he was being protective and not because he was scared, right?

“You know nothing’s going to hurt you, right? Everything’s okay,” Spencer reassured him, smoothing one hand through Billy’s hair. Anyone else Billy would have told to watch the hair, but this was Spencer. Best bro privileges and all that. Plus it felt kind of nice.

Billy was silent for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of warm fingers rubbing the nape of his neck. He didn’t really know it was okay. And the house was too quiet. Quiet could be a bad sign, couldn’t it?

The Spencer started singing softly into his ear. “I’m just too good to believe; Can’t take your eyes off of me. . .”

“Are you singing one of my songs?” Billy wiggled closer.

“Sorry. It was the first thing I thought of,” Spencer muttered, blushing.

“It’s cool. Keep going, though. Sing me the rest.”

Spencer went along with it, singing one of Billy’s old hits like it was meant to be a gentle lullaby.

It distracted Billy until he forgot to be afraid. He forgot why he was afraid in the first place. He just knew that Spencer’s mellow voice carried his music so perfectly he didn’t want to think about anything else.

When Spencer reached over him to turn off the light, Billy didn’t care about the dark. All he cared about was snuggling closer to Spencer and whispering, “Sing me another one, Spence?”


End file.
